Church This Sunday

I had Jacqueline and Joe with me this Sunday, which meant two things with respect to church: (1) we would be going to St. James for the 11:00 mass and (2) we would be leaving the house around 9:30 am. Jacqueline is in the choir, which meets at 10:00 to rehearse, and she likes to be at least 20 minutes early for that. Which is fine by me and Joe. I take my A History of Philosophy book along and get the day's ten pages done, and Joe likes to pace around the church and stim at the altar. Different strokes for different folks.

I'm in Volume VII, Part V: The Revolt Against Idealism, Chapter XVII Realism in Britain and America, which is pretty exciting for several reasons, one of which is that it's starting to poke its fingers into my own life span. Another is that Bertrand Russell is coming up, and I am anxious to waltz with him. In fact, I am pretty sure that I need to read Why I Am Not a Christian in the near future. (I am a both sides of the story kind of guy...or, more appropriately, an all sides of the story kind of guy, since the binary code doesn't always cut the mustard.) So there I was, reading about the opposition between Realism and Idealism, and occasionally looking up to ponder and look at the beautiful Catholic church I was sitting in, and I was possessed to write a note in the back of my book.

So...I guess I have pretty strong feelings about this. Kind of surprised me to see it written there in my own handwriting. And by no means do I mean that as a condemnation of people who reject religion. I completely understand that. It's the rejecting religion because of the people "in" it that bothers me. I mean...people suck, man. It's impossible to invent a Free Lunch that they wouldn't have sexual congress with. Which is why we need ideals. Or at least why I need them.